


Almost Insufferable

by Meraki_fics



Category: Voltron - Fandom, klance - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, BAMF Allura (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), College AU, Cuban Lance (Voltron), F/M, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk is great, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance is a soccer guy, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Other, Past Abuse, Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Pining Keith (Voltron), Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, So is Hunk, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), hunk and lance are best bros, im sorry, keith is an artist, klance, klangst, shallura - Freeform, this shit is gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-02 00:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12715602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraki_fics/pseuds/Meraki_fics
Summary: Basically, Keith is finally going to the school that his surrogate older brother Takashi went to. His best friend is Pidge Holt, eccentric and extremely brilliant, they help Keith out a bunch with his problems. Honestly, I have no idea what to say...hopefully i can edit this later. Anyway. Klangst. Amirite?





	1. In Your Orbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then, the bastard grins.  
> -  
> -  
> no warnings! enjoy!

Keith is muttering to himself, quiet enough so that nearby people cannot hear but anyone within earshot may be able to make out the low grumbling. In this case, it’s Shiro who is leaning most of his body against the dark wood counter, his brows lift in what may seem to be confusion, but deep down it's worry. His eyes follow Keith’s sluggish movements as he slowly but surely drags a damp rag across the surface of said counter, the angry sounds still emitting from his half closed half opened mouth. Shiro watches Keith work a little longer, his heart going out to his little brother but not really sure what could have troubled him so early in the morning. He knew that Keith had been up all night. He could hear him through the walls, considering how thin they were in their apartment building; and although he wasn’t entirely sure then what had kept Keith up, he could now tell from the faded blue smears staining Keith’s pale arms that he had been painting. 

Shiro shifts his weight from one foot to another, car keys still dangling from his right hand. He isn't sure what he was waiting for, but he doesn't feel right just leaving Keith to work in this...state. In fact, he was even hesitant to drive Keith to work in the first place. That morning Keith had slept in and was woken only by the soft knocks from Shiro and a calm reminder through the door that ‘if he doesn’t get up, he will miss his shift at the Java Lion’. After a few minutes of silence, Shiro considered turning around to leave his brother, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind the door had swung open to reveal a very tired and grumpy Keith.

“Morning little bro!” Was Shiro’s bright greeting, which Keith had responded with a shrug as he turned to go further into the apartment, leaving the door open for him. The room was dark as hell and Shiro had to squint to even find where Keith had trudged off to, (which happened to be back to his bed.) He watched Keith crawl under his comforter once more, his dark and messy hair covering his face as soon as he laid down. Shiro sighed, looking around for Keith’s phone to send a text to his boss as his brother, claiming to have caught something so he’d have to stay out. 

“I’ll just...text your boss,” He muttered more to himself than to Keith, who he was sure had fallen back to sleep. He tried his best to find the small device in the sheer darkness but he just couldn't, turning to a small lamp for help. Apparently that was more than enough encouragement for Keith to wake because he was immediately groaning and cursing at Shiro to ‘turn the sun off’.

That’s when Shiro sighed, turning on the real lights and receiving several more insults for the rude awakening, but at this point he no longer cared. He managed to get Keith up and showered within the next fifteen minutes, which surprisingly was much harder to do than when Keith was a groaning and angsty teenager.

Shiro almost feels bad for Keith as he forces himself to stay awake enough so that he won't get fired for sleeping on the job. Not that Keith’s boss is a hardass or anything like that. Not at all. She’s far from that.

“Keith?” As if on cue, Shiro straightens. His back tenses a bit as the woman belonging to the voice emerges from the backroom, tying an apron around her waist. Her hands worked quickly and soon she is looking up to face a very tense man with flushed facial features as she nears him. She almost recognizes him before he looks down quickly to whisper to the boy behind the counter who she is almost entirely sure is Keith from the dark long hair. The boy lifts his head, slowly nodding at the man before he turns to leave, which Allura quirks her brow at before refocusing on Keith, who is slouching. His hair is down and he’s not in uniform. It takes her a moment to remember that it is six thirty in the morning and that not everyone is as comfortable with getting up this early as she is. That especially goes for Keith, who at any normal time of the day is a great employee. Always greeting customers with a smile and charming welcome, usually making a silly comment and making them laugh. Which, to Allura, is always a cheerful surprise considering how Keith seems like such a lonesome guy despite his one short friend with the brightest orange hair she’d ever seen.

Allura finishes tying her long white curls up into a bun. Despite all the hair, she has managed to keep it quite neat. Then she’s placing a hand on the back of Keith’s shoulder, who startles a bit at the touch. By now she was used to the dark mood he’d always enter with on early shifts. How he’d brood and move slowly if the shop wasn’t too busy, but he is surprisingly always very aware of his surroundings, so it shocks her when he jumps. Her thin brows knit together and her mouth forms a frown. She almost looks like a mother, but she is far too young for that! 

Well, at least she thinks so.

“Keith?” She tries again, this time digging in her apron pocket for a spare hair band. She fishes a red one out that happens to have a small plastic kitten on it, but anything will do. Allura places it down on the counter, pursing her lips before deciding to take Keith’s hair into her own hands, literally. He says nothing when she combs through his only slightly-matted hair ( from not brushing after showering) and carefully pulls it all into a tiny ponytail at the back of his head, adjusting the band so the plastic kitty is smiling back at her. 

The shop is still fairly empty, save for the usual morning crew who quietly ordered their breakfast brew and sat down with a newspaper or a laptop, so Allura doesn’t mind Keith being so out of it. She steps away, curious if Keith has actually fallen asleep, but decides she’d rather not know, reprimanding Keith was never an option for her unless absolutely necessary. Instead she turns quick on her heel to go prepare his usual black coffee, no cream and no sugar. He is without a doubt a strange boy, but Allura has grown fond of him. It did not matter how quiet he could get, especially since he worked so well. 

Keith is resting his head on his elbow, palm pressing against his cheek when Allura approaches him again; happy to see that he has finally risen. She smiles upon noticing that he is in uniform, a black hoodie had covered it before but now it was draped on a stool beside him. She is also very pleased to see that he hadn’t taken the hair band out. Once the the freshly made coffee in front of him, Keith finally looks up, returning the gesture with a shy smile and Allura’s heart melts a little when it’s interrupted by a large yawn. A blush creeps up his neck, tinging the tips of his ears a shade of pink, but Allura just smiles and waves it off. 

The silence doesn’t last for long, as Allura pulls up an empty stool besides Keith, the backdoor opens with a tiny jingle. They both turn a little to see Coran, humming along to whatever’s playing through his headphones as he closes the door with his foot. As soon as he’s in the shop he meets their eyes with a bright cheeriness in his own, swiping off his headphones as he grins at them both, although it falters a bit when he notices the bags under Keith’s dark blue violet eyes.

Despite his worry for Keith, who over time he has adopted as his own son, he greets them both, placing his bags somewhere near their work lockers, “Good morning sleepyheads!”

“Good morning to you as well,” Allura is up again, smiling wide at her close friend who is offering her a tiny baggy which no doubt has chocolates inside from his mom. Coran’s mother had been visiting and whenever she stopped by, she made chocolate. Keith had never been a big fan of chocolate but Coran’s mother’s was an exception.

“So, I see our young boy has yet to rise from the dead.” Coran quirks a brow at Allura, swirling the ends of his impressive mustache. Allura turns to Keith who is now messing with a string dangling off his signature black leather gloves that she refuses to fight him on. Some things should just be left alone, even if they do slightly worry customers. 

She shrugs, “His caretaker came by to drop him off again, but he was much worse than this.” Allura fiddles with the paper bag that is now in her hands before placing it on the counter and leaning over to Keith, still preoccupied with his glove. “Speaking of which, you’re never this quiet in the morning, usually you say hello when Coran walks in.” At the mention of the name, Keith’s head shoots up, apology written all over his face. Coran waves his hand at dismissively, smiling in his direction.

“Sorry..I just..I have been a little-”

“You look like you’ve missed out on a few kilocycles of sleep hm?” Keith doesn’t understand the time tool Coran is referencing, but nods anyway because it’s sounds about right. “Well then, we better get you bright eyed and bushy tailed, huh?” Allura gives him a confused look before he gestures to Keith, “New semester starts today at Altea university. Our boy Keith is in his second year!”

“Ah how the time flies,” Allura smiles admirably at Keith who quietly sips his coffee as his eyes dart between the two of them. Keith had been working at the Java Lion for about two and a half years, and over that time he had found a home within these walls. He loved the quiet atmosphere, the warm browns and maroons that matched the wall paints to the chairs and the tables. The dark wood toned the place, grounding it and keeping him and everyone else inside from floating up into the sky. There was always some indie music playing on the stereo or live on the little stage area and if not it was either poetry or mic night, which Keith thoroughly enjoyed. He had never been a fan of big sugary coffee brands, the Java Lion was the first place he had ever found real solace in besides his art studio all the way back home. It was right off campus and although students from Altea did visit often, the faces blurred by as they ordered and went on their way. Some stayed to study, some to sit and enjoy the atmosphere, and others went on with their lives, coffee and possibly a donut or cupcake in hand.

“Well before I forget,” Allura smiles, bending over to wrap her arms around Keith in a warm but short embrace, “Good luck, Keith.” Her smile is so genuine and kind that it causes his heart to squeeze and the tips of his ears to go pink once again. Allura, his boss, was the closest thing he has to an older sister and he’s so grateful for her. She always looks out for him, a generous smile on her face as if she would do anything if he truly needed it. Yet, all he truly needs is to be able to sit as long as he wants in the shop without being told to go home to his lonely apartment. Granted his brother lived next door, but sometimes that was the worst part about it.

After a bit of the grogginess wears off, the three are in their natural routine: Coran is in the back baking, Allura is adding flavors to the Lion’s Brew board and Keith is recording down the money in the register before smiling up at his first customer of the day. He’s happy to admit that it's not a forced smile, he genuinely enjoys working here and usually the smile helps him score tips in the jar, if even just the leftover change from their purchase. He’s been saving up for a new paint kit so every penny counts.

The first to order is a young woman, phone pressed between her ear and shoulder, and although Keith hates when people order while speaking on the phone- he smiles. He takes her order patiently which earns him a smile in return and a soundless ‘thank you’ as she pays and walks out with her Cafe Americano with a dash of espresso. He cringes at the thought of the taste as soon as she turns and leaves.

The next handful of customers are a breeze and Keith is finally in the swing of things when two young guys approach. One he recognizes slightly, but he doesn't know from where or how. He’s wearing a simple dark green sweater considering the chill fall breeze but oddly enough his head is sporting a bright orange headband...or bandanna? Keith can’t really tell and he tries his best not to stare or to show the confusion on his face. 

The big guy greets him with an easygoing smile that Keith reciprocates almost immediately, honestly shocked at how quickly it came to him. The man just seemed to have this comforting aura radiating off of him in waves that Keith appreciates. But this, however, is quickly ruined by his friend who stands next to him. This one wears a hideous magenta t-shirt with what looks like an image of Darth Vader wearing shades printed on the front, his neck is craned downward, most likely looking at the displays of sweets they have. There is something about the way this guy stands, the way his hand is on his hip in almost annoyance? It throws Keith off a bit, but before he can think too much, the first guy is speaking and Keith turns his attention to him. 

“Hi, morning, I’ll just take a regular coffee , cream and sugar please.” He smiles again and Keith is happy to record his order into the machine. It’s rare that he ever gets a please or a thank you in the morning, it makes him feel a sense of gratitude that almost makes him want to thank the guy as well. Although that would be decidedly weird and so Keith doesn’t, instead he turns to the other guy who is now looking directly at Keith. He stalls, only for a moment, as the boy’s stare seems to bore holes into his face. He’s still staring after a few awkward seconds have passed, which is starting to piss Keith off because now there is a line forming and he has yet to take his order.

He clears his throat, “Um..will that be all?” The bigger guy looks over to his friend who is now on his phone- ON HIS PHONE?!

“Uh..oh. No..sorry,” He frowns at his friend before nudging him with an elbow, forcing the other boy to momentarily lose the grip on his phone which Keith almost snickers at, but instead he bites at the inside of his cheek. 

“Woah, Hunk, dude. Do not nudge a guy in the middle of an intense level of Candy Crush.” The other guy says, with hardly any anger but it still frustrates Keith because who plays Candy Crush while in line for coffee? Better yet, who plays Candy Crush anymore?

Hunk, Keith assumes, shoots him an apologetic look before swiping the phone out of his friend’s hands, “Lance,” His voice is surprisingly calm and composed compared to how Keith is feeling inside. “You need to order.”

Keith glances at who he guesses is Lance, only to find him staring again. What is with this guy? This time, however, Keith refuses to look away. The Lance guy starts humming, his arms coming to cross and uncross over his chest as he thinks of what to order. Which, by the way, is one of Keith’s biggest pet peeves. He can feel his hands clenching into fists, his nails biting into the material of his gloves. He tries taking subtle deep breaths but nothing can prepare him for when the guy actually starts speaking to someone in line behind him. What? What is he doing?

“Lance, buddy,” Hunk tries again, pulling him away from the conversation he was apparently having with a pretty blonde girl behind him. He winks at her which makes Keith somehow angrier and he forces himself to bite his tongue when the girl blushes back. “We have class soon, you need to choose fast.” As if he knew that wasn't enough, he turned to Lance with what Keith recognized as puppy dog eyes.

“Please..?”

Class? For a brief moment, Keith allows himself to wonder if they go to Altea--of course they do--and silently sends a prayer to anyone who may be listening to not put this Lance character in any of his classes. Although he highly doubts it as he watches Lance grin back at Hunk with what looks like sarcasm in a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll have a...hot brew of you?” Keith stiffens automatically, his brain not at all comprehending with what his ears are transferring to it. He swears he heard wrong. He blinks once, then twice. His eyes widen as Lance smirks down at him making Keith feel shorter than he actually is. 

Did he just..?

Keith looks to Hunk for an explanation but what he finds is Hunk looking at Lance like a disappointed parent, but he doesn't miss the ghost of a smile on his lips. He almost seems proud past the stern eyes and Keith is actually shocked. He doesn't even know this guy but he thought at least he would be more...embarrassed? 

It’s been too long of a silence and Keith is flush with annoyance and shock as Lance’s grin widens with each passing second. He mentally shakes his head, refocusing on the task at hand. “What?” He winces at his own voice, that high pitched sound was definitely his but he hadn't heard it crack like that in years. He clears his throat, blush deepening across his cheeks. “I’m sorry but..no.”

Lance’s grin gets wider if even possible as he leans in a little closer, which in turn makes Keith lean a little bit farther back. “In that case,” There's a spark in Lance's deep blue eyes that Keith dislikes very much, “I’ll have you served iced.”

Keith blinks, his face burning as a few patrons giggle at the scene. Even Hunk is hiding a small smile behind the back if his hand and Keith can't help but feel...well what does he feel? He’s angry, that's for sure, flat out pissed that this pompous star wars nerd is a) holding up the line and b) embarrassing him in front of the whole shop. 

He doesn't realize he’s balling up both fists until Hunk cuts through the tension with a nervous laugh, “You know, Lance, why don't you just give him a break already okay?” Lance looks skeptical at first but with one look at Keith’s flustered appearance he gives, smiling proudly.

“Well pretty boy, play time’s over,” Keith bristles at the compliment, that seems more backhanded than anything. “Why don't ya whip me up an Iced White Chocolate Mocha with erm..cream! Extra sugar, emphasis on the extra.” He winks at Keith, who now only stares back at him in disbelief. “I’d also like whipped cream with a cherry on top.” 

That is the last straw, now Keith is mad. Punching in the stupid order on the machine, he internally fumes at the guy in front of him. Who even puts whipped cream on an iced drink? Who in their right mind does that? And that drink itself is so stupidly sweet-

“You should probably cut down on the sugar there, Lance, it's really bad for your teeth.” Keith isn't swept away by Hunk’s brotherly comment but it does help distract him if only for a second from his anger, until he remembers who that comment was directed to. Then he’s scowling all over again, his brows scrunched together as he accepts a card from Hunk to swipe. Once he hands Hunk his receipt he disappears into the back, alerting Allura that he can't “handle that son of a bitch in that stupid t-shirt with that stupid face anymore.”

Allura works quickly to finish their order but not before Lance hands her a strip of folded napkin with yet another wink. When she tells Keith about it, his brows scrunch together and his face twists up into an angry grimace.

She gives him a worried glance before handing him the napkin which Keith regards with a suspicious look. Coran looks up from his baking sheet, a thin layer of dough spread across it in order to be rolled into croissants.

“What has you frowning again, Picasso?” Keith tries to wipe the scowl off of his face but each time he does, that pompous ass materializes into his brain again. Coran is watching his expressions carefully, a questioning frown on his face. “Keith?”

He blinks up from the napkin which he doesn't realize he has been staring at, slouching into a caramel colored beanbag. “People are insufferable, Coran. All of them.” He rolls the napkin between his palms harshly until Coran places a cautious hand on top of his.

“Maybe you should go home early, yeah? Get ready for your new classes and...catch up on some rest.” Keith looks up at Coran through his lashes, the napkin feeling heavy in his hands. He hates being pitied, but maybe it's best to go home. Obviously, he wasn't as in control of his emotions as he’d like to be this morning.

His shoulders lift up in a shrug, “Only if it's okay with Allura.”

“Only if what’s okay with me?” She saunters in, coffee cup in hand. She really is beautiful, Keith finds himself thinking. Maybe if he wasn't entirely for guys and guys only, he’d even crush on her. 

“I suggested that he went home early, he's not very...alive this morning.” Coran speaks up, a hand coming to rest on Keith’s shoulder. 

Allura eyes him, her free hand settling on her hip. “On any normal day, I’d say that we need you.” Keith can hear the sympathy in her voice, and it’s enough for him to entirely regret even considering leaving early.

“No, it’s fine, thanks though Coran,” He sends the older man a small smile of gratitude before turning to Allura. “I’ll stay. My classes won’t start until after one and I’d rather not sit in the apartment until then.” Coran makes a sounds that almost seems impressed, and Keith sits up in his chair. “I’ll be up front in a second, I promise.” Allura raises her brows but shrugs in agreement, turning on her heel to head out to the front again. Keith stands and nods at a hesitant Coran before shooing him to continue his baking and Coran sends him a smile in return. 

He almost forgets the napkin, but once he notices it again he internally groaned so as to not worry Coran again. Carefully, he opens the napkin, flattening it against his open palm. Keith’s lips pull into a confused frown as he stares at the small image scribbled onto the napkin, followed by chicken scratch handwriting. It’s a doodle of what seems to be a tiny space shuttle, an alien riding on top as a jockey would a horse. Underneath, the words ‘hope to see you in my orbit soon’. He cringes. That’s cheesy. He folds it back up, shoving it into the back pocket of his black skinny jeans. Cheesy, but a bit charming, almost charming enough for Keith to forget who was supposedly behind the art. Almost. He bites down onto his lip,heading back up to the register, the weight of the napkin obvious in his pocket.

 

_____________________

Pidgeot> (HOLT)  
-hey stud, how’s lunch look?

Da Vinci> (KOGANE)  
-probably not very appetizing

Pidgeot> (HOLT)  
-not in the caf you idiot  
-you owe me lunch member?

Da Vinci> (KOGANE)  
-not exactly  
-pretty sure you told me that if i didn't pay for lunch you would tell takashi that i picked up more shifts at work

Pidgeot> (HOLT)  
-i still don't get how that would make him mad

Da Vinci> (KOGANE)  
-he thinks i work too much

Pidgeot> (HOLT)  
-shiro’s such a dad

Keith snorts at that last text, quickly typing back “I know” before pocketing his phone. He turns, sliding his employee card to punch out for the day. Allura passes him by, hips swaying with the lively sounds and music of a now pretty crowded Java Lion. She pats his head lovingly with one hand, the other draping his black hoodie over his shoulder which Keith thanks her for with a smile.

“Don’t be nervous, you’ll do just fine today.” Her voice is smooth and filled with a familiar light happiness as she travels around the corner to make another drink. He sighs, a content feeling taking over as he revels in the buoyant aura that the shop always offers around noon. The smells of freshly ground coffee beans and baked goods are comforting as he salutes Coran, who waves back with an unfrosted donut. Keith finally pushes out the front doors, holding it open for a mother and her small toddler who grins up at Keith, lifting his robot toy for him to see. The mother notices her son’s distraction and smiles over at Keith who nods respectively before waving goodbye to the boy and leaving through the front door.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he struggles to pull it out while also simultaneously speed walking towards the bus stop as to not miss his ride. As soon as he’s settled on a bench, the bus a few minutes away, he glances down at the screen to see a few more text messages waiting for him. Keith waits until he’s paid and already aboard the bus before actually swiping across the screen to answer.

Pidgeot> (HOLT)  
-we are still doing lunch right?  
-keith?  
-where the hell are u?  
Whatever, i’ll be in the union hall. I have ur bag HURRY UP

Keith sighs, typing back to his impatient friend-

Da Vinci> (KOGANE)  
-srry was punching out  
-just got on bus, be there soon

Pidgeot> (HOLT)  
-ur so slow

Keith ignores that one and instead digs in his hoodie pocket to retrieve his earbuds. His fingers slide across his Spotify playlist, skipping past some old favorites: mostly Panic At The Disco and My Chemical Romance. Even his best friend makes fun of those selections, joking that it matches his angsty dark persona. Which is not true, Keith is not angsty nor dark. He just keeps to himself, and a few selected individuals. He’s much more comfortable that way, the less people around him the smaller chance that they can hurt him. He tries to ignore how angsty that actually sounds and instead swipes to his Joywave playlist, leaning his head back against the seat, turned to the side as he watches the world whir by. 

 

Pidge is sitting on the white marble fountain, legs dangling off of the side as they type rather quickly on their tiny laptop. Their fingers flying across the keyboard, neck craned to watch the screen. Keith approaches them carefully, pulling an earbud out as Pidge instinctively pushes their large round glasses back to the bridge of their nose. ‘Dangerous’ by Big Data ft. Joywave is playing so loud in his ears that the loose earbud can be heard and Pidge slowly lifts their eyes, fingers still typing even though they can’t see. This isn’t a surprise to Keith, who has realized that the keyboard has become apart of Pidge’s muscle memory. Pidge, who never has enough time to breath between ideas and rushing to type them down. Pidge used to keep a physical journal for their epiphanies and such, but then some ass tossed it into this very fountain after Pidge insulted his IQ, comparing it to one of a mechanical pencil. Which isn’t much of an insult, (in Keith’s opinion.) but it was enough to set the guy off. 

Now, Keith is familiarized with the image of Pidge typing away whenever they get the chance, reflection of the screen in their wide glasses that they adjust every ten minutes. He never really asked, but he honestly doesn’t think they’re prescribed. It doesn’t matter much though, so he leaves it alone. He watches them carefully as Pidge finishes up their sentence and quickly closes the laptop, revealing the smile that was hidden behind the screen. It’s a big cheesy grin that warms Keith’s heart, Pidge jumps off the edge of the fountain, shoving their macbook air into their bag, and slings the strap over their shoulder. 

“Let’s go, my stomach is eating itself.” With that, Pidge bends down to pick up Keith’s dark green messenger bag, which he takes gratefully. Then they’re arm in arm, Pidge’s looped through Keith’s as they head out the main entrance. Pidge starts talking about how their first class was an absolute drag, the teacher was apparently the worst they have ever had for a Math Science. They were enrolled in several classes that Keith couldn’t even begin to understand, this one in particular however is their Programming Numerical Methods in Python class. Which is a mouthful of words that actually hurt Keith’s brain. 

Where Keith had stuck with majoring in Art, Pidge went all out, majoring and minoring in as many things related to math and science as allowed. Not that they were any kind of overachiever, although Keith believes that Pidge is actually trying to beat some kind of genius record. Pidge actually likes learning. Loves it even; happiest when there’s a mind numbingly hard problem placed in front of them with a time limit of less than thirty minutes. Although he doesn’t exactly understand his best friend, he loves them dearly and supports any and all their desires to fry out their brain before they hit twenty five.

“Where to?” Keith speaks up, another Joywave song blaring in his ears. This one is called ‘Content’, which is exactly how he feels strolling along the green with Pidge on his arm, their warmth traveling around him and spreading throughout his chest. Although, now that he’s listening closely, maybe the song is actually talking about the other meaning of content. He doesn’t care too much, so instead he tunes out the lyrics and focuses on his friend. 

Pidge grimaces up at Keith, his music so loud now that Pidge can actually make out what is being sung. “First of all, turn that down.” Keith huffs, but does as he’s told, the music lowered to where he can actually hear the other students around them. “You’ll blow out your eardrums and my brother says-” Keith interrupts with a groan, but they ignore him, “-that your ears are one of the most sensitive parts of your body.” Pidge rubs their own ear with their free hand, “And you’re not allowed to go deaf on me.”

Keith nods halfheartedly, used to hearing medical related warnings and advice from both Pidge and their older brother Matt- who is almost always by Shiro’s side. Pidge seems satisfied with themselves as they grin up at Keith, momentarily resting their head covered in ginger hair on his shoulder. He smiles down at them before shaking his head in mild amusement. Pidge is a creation from the greatest beings in the universe, and he’s lucky enough to love and be loved by them. Their bright hazel eyes blink up at him innocently and his heart squeezes in his chest; Pidge is one of the only people in this world who makes Keith feel like he truly belongs. They met back when Shiro and Matt had become best friends themselves, who shared an Anatomy class when they both attended their fourth year at Altea. Ever since Shiro introduced them they’ve been inseparable, doing almost everything together. Now almost five years later, they themselves attend Altea, best friends practically joined at the hip.

“Anyway,” Pidge is now looking ahead, their wild hair getting swept up with the breeze which Keith can tell is bothering them. Thanks to Allura’s hospitality that morning, Keith’s hair is already up, but luckily he always kept a black headband in his bag. He leaned a bit to reach into his bag, fingers scrambling around until they're caught on a familiar material. Pidge watches him carefully, eyes brightening when he lifts up the band for them to see. “Thank you,” Pidge says, quickly pulling the headband over their head, pushing back their hair with a satisfied sigh. “Like I was saying, we should head to a fast food place, I don’t care where. It just has to be quick because I have-” Pidge glances down at their digital wristwatch from most likely the late 80’s “-Twenty minutes before my next class. Someone shouldn’t have taken so long because maybe then I’d have more time to eat.” There’s no bitterness to their tone, just a light teasing that is very familiar to Keith. He purposely gives Pidge an obnoxious grin and they swat at his face, their faux scowl fading into a smile.

They stop at the student parking where Pidge pulls away from Keith to reach for their key, immediately missing their warmth. Pidge moves towards their black beat up 1980’s AMG Hammer, Abacus. Pidge told Keith once that the Abacus- invented by some dude with the last name Oughtred -was the descendant of the computer. Pidge would go on and on about how the computer wouldn’t even exist without the Abacus and how unfortunate it is that most scientists don’t even know the origin of it all. Not that Keith particularly cares about any of this, but when Pidge gets invested in a thoughtful rant, it’s hard not to pay attention. He would sit for hours, elbows stationed so his hands could hold up his face, completely lost in Pidge. They would speak, and a whole other world would open up. Suddenly he could understand things he never expected to, or at least that’s how it feels. Keith loves Pidge. If he could, he’d probably fall in love with them, marry them, and grow old together all while adoringly listening to every one of their angry spiels about society and the concept of it all. 

“Hey, lonely and miserable,” Keith looks up to Pidge who is grinning when he answers to their not so clever nickname. “We going or what? This kid needs a burger stat!” Thoughts of growing old and being in love clear his mind, and soon he’s walking over to Abacus, opening the passenger door- no one drives Abacus unless their name starts with PI and ends with DGE.

The time passes by fast and Keith finds himself hugging Pidge goodbye, making semi solid plans to meet up after his last class. It’s only 2:34 when Keith trudges through the art building to reach his Art History class, which doesn’t start until four, being two hours long. He instead, finds a nice lounge area near the room and pulls out his large and almost full sketchbook. Shiro bought it for him about a month ago, but Keith uses art as a form of therapy. He’s always drawing. The hour and thirty minutes he has to spare is put towards the sketch of a face, a boy with dark skin and wide eyes. Keith wants to paint them dark blue. He’s finishing up on the shading of the short,wavy hair when he realizes exactly who he drew.

Keith has always drawn from memory, references were never challenging enough for him. So for him, his art would be completely his own, how he perceives the object drawn with his hands. So when he sees Lance's face drawn out on his sketch book, he's only slightly surprised. More so, he's angered. It takes a lot for Keith to express his anger to strangers, in fact he likes to keep that to himself, yet Lance was able to bring it out of him during their first meeting and he hates it. He wants to scrap it, but he's also kind of proud of his work- no matter who it's of. He leans his head against the wall, eyes closing as he feels a headache start to form at his temples.

“Who’s that? He’s kinda cute,” Keith jumps, his eyes flying open as his arms scramble to catch his sketch book before it falls page first. His heart is racing when he comes face to face with a girl..a girl? Her skin is sun-kissed, light freckles sprinkled over her cheeks and the bridge of her only slightly pointed nose. He’s blinking into wide green eyes, lined with a charcoal color which he automatically assumes is makeup. 

It takes a moment for him to gather his wits before he clears his throat, bringing the sketchbook a bit closer to his chest. “I...um..he's no one.” Keith’s not sure he's ever seen her around, but if he has, he’s confused as to how he could forget her face. She’s no doubt gorgeous, her ears poking out from her loosely curled surfer blonde hair. Her nose has a small, round silver piercing in it and her smile is so wide that it takes Keith a second to process what's exactly going on. How do people like this even exist?

“Sorry,” Her cheeks are slightly flushed, in what Keith thinks is embarrassment but he really can't tell from the way that she seems to just give off waves of confidence that slightly intimidate him. ”Didn't mean to scare you, wouldn't want that for our newly budding friendship.” Keith’s still staring at her, mouth agape as she takes a seat next to him on the floor, legs spreading out in front of her. As soon as she's settled she turns back to him, face lit up in what looks like amusement. 

“Friendship?” He squeaks out, blushing at the sound. His voice keeps betraying him, he should stop speaking to people.

She doesn't seem to mind though, head bobbing to answer Keith’s question. Her perfectly aligned teeth bite down excitedly on her bottom lip. Keith doesn't get how it's humanly possible to have such pink and plump lips, even though they do look undoubtedly natural. Also, who gets lip jobs done just for the hell of it?

“Yup,” She confirms, leaning into him a little to catch another glance at the Lance sketch which Keith holds directly against his chest. She doesn't bat an eye; if she's an art student she must understand. “You're Keith Kogane, right?” He can hear the hesitance in her voice but he’s far more focused on how she even knows his name.

He swallows, “H-how do you-”

“Oh God, way to make a first impression,” Now she’s laughing and Keith's brow raises before she shakes her head with an ‘I’m such an idiot’ smile on her face. “Sorry, I completely forgot,” She’s offering out her hand now and Keith let's it sit airborne, his eyes studying it for any sign of explanation. Before he can ask, she picks up his hand that's not holding onto the book for dear life and shakes it with her own. Keith flushes, now he’s the idiot. “The name’s Iris Marino, most of my friends just call me Vixen though.” She's beaming at him. “As a kid she was my favorite comic book character, I would literally wear my Vixen Halloween costume all the time.”

Keith processes this, not exactly sure what to think of Iris...Vixen? He settles on something that is still nagging him in the back of his head, “I’m sorry but, how do you know my name?”

“Oh,” She grins, a glint of something bordering on mischievous in her eyes, “I found your I.D.” Then she’s brandishing the white and cyan blue card that is in fact a school I.D. Iris holds it up for him to see and sure enough, there’s Keith’s face on the front. He scrambles to get it out of her hand but she swipes it away just in time, eyeing him carefully. “I’ll give it to you in just a tick.” Keith is losing his patience, hating the feeling of foreign eyes on him, “I’ve actually seen you around quite a bit, you're friends with that short kid...um..Katie?”

“You mean, Pidge.” He bites out, the girl doesn’t even wince. Instead she smiles softly at him almost in silent understanding, her eyes drifting back over to the student I.D. in her hand.

“Hey, Keith, would you be my art partner?”

His jaw goes slack and Iris chuckles a bit at this. “Are you serious?”

She nods, shoulder-length hair slightly falling into her face, “Dead.”

“But...why?” He’s inching away from her, but she just moves closer. “Can you quit it?”

“Be my partner.” Iris has a look of determination in her eyes that annoys him.

“Why?”

She smirks, “Be. My. Partner.”

Keith has had enough, pushing off of the wall and standing up straight. He’s scowling down at her, but she just challenges him further, standing up as well. She’s pretty short, to his shoulder at least, and he takes a moment to reconsider the anger building up inside of him. He doesn't want to fight, not here, not now, and not with some short girl who stole his student I.D.

“I’m heading to class. Keep the I.D., I’ll buy a new one.” He goes to turn around, eyes already settled on the door across the hall when he feels a tiny hand grab at his arm. Keith turns his head, scowl still firmly in place before it falls completely as Iris holds up his card. He hesitantly reaches out, grabbing it before she can take it back, but there was no pull when his fingers grasp it.

“Sorry,” She’s sighing running a hand through her hair, “I am God awful at making friends.” Keith snorts at that and Iris smiles, hope written across her face. “You just...you looked cool when you were sketching that guy. I really admire the work I was able to see before you went all Pandora’s Box on me.” (Keith appreciates the reference.) “Anyway, look, you dropped your card over in the Union Hall earlier...and I kinda saw you walk away with that Pidge kid."

Keith can sense that she's nervous, watching as she tucks some golden hair behind one ear. He clears his throat a little, "Um..yeah we were headed to lunch. Thanks for picking it up."

Iris nods, her eyes smiling more than her actual lips. "Look, I know you aren't really much for company but it would be pretty shweet if I could have at least one friend this semester." Then he sees it, like her eyes had become windows, opening up to reveal a secret that only Keith could see. 

He blinks, “Sh..weet?” Iris grins and nods at him, as if this is some kind of joke that he should understand, but he really doesn’t.

“Shweet.” 

Keith doesn’t know what compels him to, but he shrugs and agrees to being her partner. Usually he’d opt out to be alone, but something about Iris felt almost comically comfortable. They walked into class together as she explained to Keith who exactly Vixen was and before he even realized it, they’re sitting next to each other and laughing over her impression of the professor. He finds it odd, but there's just something so easy about talking to Iris, as if in another life they were good friends and now they are just picking up from where they left off.

The class goes by with Iris cracking jokes and Keith trying his very best not to admit that they are actually funny. He’s not used to having a friend like this, or even a person like this in his life, and it makes him nervous. Keith liked being on his own, but maybe he wouldn't mind having Pidge and Iris by his side sometimes. 

“Here,” Iris is taking his phone from his grasp before he has the chance to protest. “My number.” She’s typing in a contact name when the professor deems the class over for today and Iris quickly snaps a photo of herself for a contact picture, Keith assumes. “Don't call me unless you're being viciously ripped apart by dogs,” She says sternly, her eyes narrowing as she stares into Keith’s soul. He nods slowly and soon Iris is grinning again. “But text me anytime.” With that she’s off, leather backpack bouncing on her back as she bounds down the steps of the seats. Once she gets to the bottom, she looks back up at Keith to wave and she's gone. 

As soon as she disappears, Keith feels a vibration in his pocket, which he assumes is Iris but is shocked a little to see it's a text from his brother.

Old Man> (SHIROGANE)  
-hey keith! how are all your new classes?

Keith rolls his eyes, finally standing up and collecting his things as the room continues to empty of students. They're slow and sluggish as they leave, probably heading back to the dorms or their houses, this being their last class of the day. Unfortunately, Keith had to take up a Statistics course last minute, giving him an 8:30 class. Which sucks.

Baby Keith> (KOGANE)  
-fine so far...dad  
-i hace one more class  
-have*

Old Man> (SHIROGANE)  
-should i assume that you won't be home for dinner?

Baby Keith> (KOGANE)  
-i'm a big boy takashi, i'll just find something to eat  
-i don't have enough time to come back to the apartments

He sighs, about to shove his phone into his pocket when it erupts with sounds, at first scaring the shit out of him. Soon, the sound lowers a little and he recognizes it as the Space Invaders theme song, which can only mean one thing.

“Hey, Pidge.”

“KEITH!” He leans away from his phone a bit, taking the stairs two at a time before finally reaching the end. “What class do you have next? You said you had a night class, right?”

“Uh...yeah.” He’s turning out the door now, headed towards the quad when he hears a sharp gasp from the other line. He falters a moment, worry immediately settling in the pit of his stomach, “Pidge?”

“WE CAN HAVE A DINNER DATE.”

Keith sighs, shaking his head with a ghost of a smile on his face. “You scared me, Pidge.”

“Oh shit sorry,” They pause for a moment, the sound of a door opening in the background before they speak again. “You sound drained as all hell, Keith.”

“That's because I am,” He admits, letting the letters drag off of his tongue. No matter how much Iris tried to distract him from the professors boring as all balls speech, it was still a two hour long class. Not to mention that last night he had gotten maybe almost four hours of sleep, thanks to his insomnia and screaming thoughts. 

Pidge tsks, “Well, head over to my dorm. You can crash on my roomie’s bed.” Keith wants to argue, but he's far too exhausted to deny himself a rest. So he stops moving and turns to head in the direction of the honor student dormitory.

As soon as he knocks on the door it's being swung open and Pidge is smiling on the other side. It's an honest relief to see their face and Keith allows himself to smile back, relishing in the way Pidge can make him feel light as air with a simple positive expression.

“Okay so,” Pidge is closing the door behind Keith, pointing with a free hand to their roommate’s bed which Keith accepts gratefully. “I won't force you to eat, but when you do wake up, you can take anything that's in the fridge with you to your next class.” Keith flops onto the bed, his messenger bag falling clumsily to the floor. Pidge is eyeing Keith warily before padding over to him, hands on their hips. “You really need to take better care of yourself, Kogane.” Then they're leaning down to press a warm kiss to his forehead. Keith sighs happily, allowing himself to close his eyes and sleep.

 

——————

Keith is running, his messenger bag slapping against the back of his thighs as he sprints through the empty quad. He had overslept and Pidge had cuddled up next to him, falling into a deep sleep and completely missing their ‘wake Keith up’ alarm. So now, Keith is reduced to running. His hair is flying in and all around his face, clutching a granola bar in his left hand for dear life as he races to the math building.

When his converse finally skid across the linoleum floors of the building, he’s hooking a left to where he vaguely remembers once seeing a stats room and praying that this is the only one in session at this time. Which is most likely the case. He’s still rushing however, sweat sticking his maroon t-shirt to his back and strands of his hair to his face. 

He stops briefly in front of a room filled with a little less than thirty students and sighs a breath of relief when he notices that the professor also seems to be late. Quickly, he makes his way into the room, finding a lonely seat on the very last tier. He likes sitting at the very top, because this way no one can see him unless he calls attention to himself. Which he never does.

Almost two minutes later a flustered older man walks in with a briefcase, cursing under his breath and Keith can only assume that this is his professor. 

“My apologies, class,” He speaks up, adjusting his suit jacket a few times before deciding to take it off. He looks like he’s sweating, which Keith can understand as he looks on his wrist for Allura’s hair band which he happily ties up his hair with. “I'm not very accustomed to these later classes.” Keith checks his watch- it's 8:37. Almost a whole ten minutes late. The students are murmuring to themselves while the professor situates himself at the podium and Keith takes this moment to pull out his sketchbook again. 

He turns to the page with Lance’s face on it when the professor speaks again. “Call me Dr. Finn, I am your Honors Statistics instructor…” Keith tunes out the rest, accustomed to the introductions of new classes by now. Classes will be held on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Always at 8:30, never a minute after, with the exception of today of course. There will be a syllabus and blah blah blah. 

Keith is staring at his sketch again, wondering why his brain hadn't figured to draw Lance's friend instead. He tries to think of a name to go with the kind and endearing face but comes up empty handed. That's when he remembers the napkin and sits up a little to reach into his back pocket and pull it out. It's warm and worn down by now, but the picture is still visible and the words still legible. 

His eyes are mentally tracing the handwriting on the napkin when the loud sound of the room doors interrupts him. He peers down at whoever decided to come to class almost twenty minutes late when he hears the voice that he immediately can place to a face.

“Woah shit, how late am I?” Keith bristles at the voice, hairs sticking up at the back of his neck as his eyes follow the figure’s movements.

“Very,” Dr. Finn speaks up, annoyance laced in his tone, “What is your name young man, and why are you so late?”

The guy looks almost scared for a moment before he let's his eyes roam the room until they suddenly land on Keith. He expects some kind of flicker of recognition, but instead he just looks away as if he doesn't remember Keith at all.

“Lance Gabriel McClain, sir,” He’s grinning, eyes on the professor now. Everything about the response is smug and Keith hates it. He wants Dr. Finn to kick him out of class or report him for misdemeanor. “And I'm late because my buddy Hunk and I were having a staring contest and I refuse to lose.” Keith’s scowling without even realizing it, everything about Lance just seems to anger him. From the way he stands, hip to one side, arms crossed loosely over his white and blue baseball tee to the way his lips are curled up in a cocky smirk. Not to mention that now, Lance is looking back up at Keith again, and before he has the chance to look away, Lance winks. That idiot winks at him. 

“Not a proper excuse McClain, I expect you on time for our next class or there will be repercussions. Either come on time or not at all, I hate interruptions.” Dr. Finn glares and Keith silently appraises him. Lance responds with a toned down but still very pompous grin, his arms raising in mock defense.

“Loud and clear, teach.”

The professor eyes him carefully before huffing and dismissing Lance from the interrogation. Keith watches him turn to the seats and immediately bows his head, focusing on the little napkin in front of him. Keith reasons that he won't even try coming up to sit with him, Lance obviously doesn't remember Keith and only winked because he's that much of an idiot. He hears a chair a few rows down move across the floor and sighs, his shoulders releasing the tension he didn't realize was there. Then, there's a tap on his shoulder and they automatically tense back up again.

Keith closes his eyes, holding in a deep sigh.

God hates me. He hates me and he's showing me by putting this pompous, idiotic flirt in my life.

“I know this seat isn't taken, but i'm going to ask anyway.” Lance's voice comes out smooth and irritating and it takes everything Keith has not to turn and deck him in the mouth.

“There are other places to sit,” He grits out, sounding far more angered than he thought he was. He still refuses to look up but can practically feel Lance’s eyes on him. He hates it. He really fucking hates it.

“Sure there are,” Lance sighs, and Keith can't see it but he can definitely hear the smirk in his voice, “But no one else was giving me goo goo eyes when I walked in late.”

This makes Keith’s face snap up to meet Lance’s knowing look. “I was not giving you goo goo eyes.” Lance is about to respond with something undoubtedly stupid, when his jaw falls slack and his dark blue eyes widen. He’s staring, just like he did this morning, but with less scrutiny this time. He honestly looks shocked and Keith flushes a bit under his intense gaze. 

“Holy shit,” Lance breathes out, his eyes darting to the desk in front of Keith and he's only confused for a second before he remembers his sketch...and Lance’s. He turns away, quickly shoving the napkin in his sketch book and slamming it shut, his heart racing and the flush on his skin deepening in color. “Coffee guy?”

Keith slowly looks up again, his face a deep crimson now. An embarrassed anger rumbles beneath his ribcage, swirling throughout his insides. He narrows his dark eyes at Lance who still hasn't collected his wits. “My name...is Keith.” His jaw is so taut that his teeth are painfully mashed together, but he can't seem to care at the moment.

The shocked look slowly leaves Lance's face, a blush creeping up his neck as his eyes stay locked on Keith’s. Then, the bastard grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always open to criticism, as long as it's constructive!! I hope you all don't totally hate it!
> 
> (thanks to my pidge for editing it for me, love you)


	2. 동료 (brother)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no warnings! enjoy!

“So, you kept the napkin.” It’s been about five minutes of intense silence between them before Lance opens his mouth once more, and Keith grits his teeth.

His eyes are staring straight ahead, not really focused on anything. Keith relaxes his face, trying his best to seem unphased although he made it pretty obvious that he is. “What napkin?”

Lance quirks a brow, gesturing with a lazy wave of his hand towards Keith’s book, “That napkin.” Keith doesn’t bother looking down, he’s trying to portray the idea that the napkin Lance saw was not in fact there. 

“Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about, now please stop talking to me.” He can see Lance shifting around in his peripheral vision, fidgeting with the pop-socket on the back of his phone which is getting really annoying. However, Lance has seemed to give up, sighing only occasionally with what Keith recognizes as boredom. He manages to ignore Lance’s absentminded twitches and actually takes some notes from Dr. Finn’s speech.

There’s about twenty minutes left of the class without any distractions from Lance at all, and Keith starts to think that maybe this kid isn’t as bad as he originally thought. He’s finishing up on sketching the diagram that Dr. Finn has drawn terribly on the board when he feels a presence by his face. He wants to ignore it. He really does, but the warm breath that fans the back of his neck is enough to convince him to look up. He only turns his head a bit before he’s nose to nose with Lance who is blinking in shock; Keith pulls back quickly, his eyes narrowing at Lance who is still too close to him.

“What?” He feels a bit insecure under his stare and self consciously reaches up to tuck a loose strand of dark hair behind his ear. Lance leans closer and Keith’s breath hitches in his throat as he tilts his head back a bit, trying to put at least some space between them.

Lance’s dark blue eyes seem to soften and he allows Keith some more personal space, “You have a Hello Kitty hair tie.” The statement is most unexpected and Keith’s hand flies up to his ponytail, yanking the band out of his hair. He lets it fall, hair coming almost to his shoulders and Lance’s eyes widen, “You have a mullet.” It’s not exactly disgust that he detects in his voice, but it’s definitely not admiration. Keith scoffs, allowing himself to look away from Lance, who he realizes he’s been staring at for way too long.

“Sharp observation,” Lance actually flushes at this, but Keith is too busy pulling insecurely at the hair at the back of his neck to notice. It’s not that long is it? Pidge usually tells Keith when he should probably get it trimmed but now that his fingers are in his hair it does seem to be a bit lengthy. 

Lance grins, almost victorious at Keith’s obvious moment of hesitance. “Dude, the 80’s called, they want their hair back.”

Keith rolls his eyes, tucking some hair behind his ear again, “Ha ha, very fucking funny. Never heard that one before.”

“Good,” He snickers, either not catching up on Keith’s sarcasm or simply choosing to ignore it.

“You’re insufferable.” Keith is rolling his eyes now, his pen tapping against the desk in mild annoyance, “How about you pay attention?”

Lance chuckles under his breath, “What, to this?” He’s pointedly giving Keith an incredulous look. Keith responds with an obvious nod, but Lance just shakes his head as if Keith had told him something funny. “Keith, you don’t know how to live.”

“Maybe not,” He bites out, turning back to the board, “But at least I know how to pass a gen ed class.”

This makes Lance laugh out loud and Keith sends him a bewildered look, but he just grins as if Keith is missing out on some obvious joke. “Oh burn me, Mullet.” His own stupid insult causes Lance to laugh harder, “Please, don’t bring out the platform shoes to stomp in my face.”

“That’s the seventies you idiot,” Keith deadpans and Lance’s smile falters at this. He feels himself reveling in his accomplishment and turns back to his notebook, where he was actually taking notes..unlike someone else.

“Whatever,” He can hear the defeat in Lance’s voice and prays that the embarrassment is enough to shut him up for the rest of the class. “At least my hair isn’t stupid.” Lance mutters almost to himself.

“Good one,” Keith snorts, not really up for outwitting this kid any longer. His eyes sweep the room for a clock and sighs happily when he finds that there’s only about two minutes left of class. As he begins to pack up his things, he can feel Lance’s stare on his back but he no longer really cares. His artbook is the last thing to go in his bag, but when he grabs for it, he can feel something holding it down. Keith huffs, looking back up to where Lance is in fact holding down his book.

“Wait,” It’s a quiet plea and he hates that he listens, keeping his hand frozen on top of the sketch book.

Keith waits for Lance to say something, but when he doesn’t he decides to speak up himself. “What?”

Lance’s eyes are hesitant and he bites down on his bottom lip, which Keith pretends not to notice. “I was just..” He breathes deeply, cursing under his breath. “Um- did you really keep it?” Keith blinks at him, not quite accustomed to this seemingly shy Lance. He almost thinks it's an act. The look in his eyes makes it clear though that it isn't, and Keith sighs. Reaching for the edge of his sketchbook,  
he flips it open.

Quickly, Keith fishes the napkin out before Lance can see the sketch of himself. He places it on the desk space between them, flattening it on the hard surface. Lance leans close to the napkin, a small smile on his lips.

“You kept it,” He breathes out quietly. He almost sounds..happy? Keith’s cheeks tinge a bit, his eyes watching as Lance runs a finger against the frayed area where the napkin had been originally ripped. “You totally have a man crush on me.”

Keith coughs, his eyes widening at Lance who is now smirking at him with the smugness that Keith originally disliked about him. He sputters, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, but he can’t. Why did he keep the napkin? He should have thrown it out as soon as his eyes processed the image. Keith’s mouth opens and then closes as he struggles to say something, anything to get that stupid smirk off of Lance's face.

“Kogane and McClain,” Dr. Finn is glaring up at them and Keith bites at the inside of his cheek, “Class is dismissed, please leave.” He looks up, his eyes bulging as he watches the last student walk out of the room, save for Lance and himself. Taking a deep breath, Keith stands up abruptly from his seat, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and snatching up the napkin. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he refuses to give Lance the satisfaction and refrains from looking back. Instead, he hops down the steps, almost losing his balance, before he’s out the door.

_______________________________________

 

“He. Is . INSUFFERABLE.” Shiro’s eyes follow Keith as he paces across the hardwood floor; he’s holding up his fork in front of his face, movements stalled by Keith’s sudden explosion of anger. “He’s got this stupid FACE and these big dopey blue eyes and he thinks he’s just SO great.” Keith’s gloved hands are pulling at his hair, his socked feet almost sliding across the floor, “He had the nerve, the NERVE Takashi, to say that I have a crush on him. A CRUSH. What’s worse is that he called it a ‘man’ crush. What the hell is a man crush? Why can’t a crush just be called a crush?”

“So...it is a crush?” Shiro raises a brow, slipping the forkful of steamed broccoli into his mouth. Keith’s steps stutter and he spins to Shiro, his eyes wide.

“NO.” He stomps once, like an impetuous child and Shiro tries his best to stifle his amused smile and chuckle by chewing his food. “No, it is not.” Keith can see the laugh lines crinkling around Shiro’s eyes, but he refuses to give into the bubble of laughter that's poking around his insides. This is a serious rant. He sits down across from shiro, a cold plate of food in front of him but he’s far too heated to eat anything. 

Shiro forks some more vegetable trees and Keith grimaces at them before he is scolded. “Don’t judge the foods of others when you yourself eat disgusting fast food.”

Keith sighs, his hands scrubbing at his face, “I just..I can’t go back to that class Takashi. If I have to sit next to hi- WORK next to him… I’ll die.”

“That’s a bit over dramatic, don’t you think?” Shiro is mocking him now, and normally Keith would ignore his jeering tone, but this is serious.

“You don’t understand, this kid is like...he’s stuck in a high school mindset.” Keith waves his hands in the air above his head. “He’s so pompous, he’s a nuisance, he thinks everyone likes him...” 

Shiro tilts his head slightly, a small frown settling on his face, “You really don’t like this kid do you?”

“Uh, that’s obvious?” Keith’s raised brow is ignored by Shiro who is wiping his mouth with a napkin. He looks down, comparing their plates. Shiro’s is cleaned, only a few bits of food left to indicate that there was any in the first place. Keith’s however, is covered in broccoli, a chicken breast, and some peas. 

The older man sends his unrelated brother a look of disappointment, “If it’s that bad Keith, just enroll in an earlier class-”

“I can’t.” And Shiro knows he can’t, not if Keith wants to work at the Java Lion. He worked hard to make sure to only enroll in classes that started after one at the latest, which is why he’s in this Stats problem in the first place. “Takashi, you know that I ca-”

“Of course, because working part time at a coffee shop is more crucial than your college education.” Keith is startled by the bitterness in Shiro’s voice and he bows his head slightly. He knows that Shiro would gladly pick up more shifts at his own job to support them both, but Keith doesn’t want that. At all. A twenty year old should at least know how to fend for himself, he doesn’t want or need Shiro’s hospitality to be all he has to lean on.

There's an intense silence and Keith refuses to meet Shiro’s eyes, he already knows the look they’ll have. Though Shiro hasn’t said a thing yet, Keith knows what to expect from Shiro's angry stare. It’s a heated gaze that he’s been at the receiving end of many times during his high school years, and although he loves having Shiro around, he hates being reprimanded by him. By now, he thinks he’s a little too old for this treatment, but the memo has yet to be received by his older sibling. It’s as if he completely forgot that Keith graduated almost two years ago, continuing to speak to him like an impatient child.

Shiro had always been this way though, even when Keith was under the care of his last foster family. They met when he was still in middle school, Shiro was a freshman in college. He had been Keith’s neighbor at the time, always offering to watch over Keith when his foster parents would complain about how he wouldn't stop fighting with his older sibling. He’d take him out to the park or to the small arcade in the local grocery store. He was the perfect big brother, Keith never wanted to go home to his ‘real’ family.

Keith lived in a small suburban neighborhood only a few miles away from where he currently lives. It was a two story home with three bedrooms, one for everyone in the house. Before Keith it was just Amanda and Clifford, along with their sixteen year old son- Rolo. He despised Keith as soon as his parents brought the small boy into their home. At that point in time, Keith was skinny, with spindly little arms that struggled to help defend himself against Rolo. He stuttered a lot and had this bad habit of always biting down too hard on his bottom lip until blood would appear. An easy target, that’s what he was. Rolo made sure he never forgot.

On warm afternoons, Amanda and Clifford would let the boys walk down the street to the community pool. Rolo would only stay with Keith until his rufian friends would wave over to him, then he’d shove Keith to the side and run ahead. He knew that Keith couldn’t swim, but that was the least of concerns as he allowed his friends to dunk Keith’s head under the water. They’d trip him, call him a girl, along with a lot more childish bullshit that still haunts Keith to this day, although he’ll never admit it. 

It was on one of those afternoons that Shiro found Keith sitting at the edge of the pool, his toes skimming over the water as he swung his legs. Keith and Rolo had only arrived to the pool before he was grinning maliciously and shoving the younger kid into the water with full force. His dark hair covered his face entirely as his head bobbed in the water, his arms flailing at his sides. That was also the day that Shiro volunteered to be the lifeguard for the month, off from classes. He dived in after Keith, his arms coming to wrap around the kid who was so obviously drowning himself. After being pulled up onto the side of the pool, Keith pushed away from him angrily. He was embarrassed and Shiro backed up a bit, watching as the boy hunched his shoulders and kept his face towards the water.

He waited a second before sitting next to Keith, offering him a hand.

“Hey, my name is Takashi.” He smiled easily and Keith looked up with hesitance. After living with Rolo for about a year now, he was very quiet and kept to himself. If he stayed quiet, he was less likely to get socked in the arm while leaving the bathroom or tripped while heading to dinner. Shiro let his hand sit in the air, not a shred of his confidence breaking as he smiled at Keith, “My friends call me Shiro, though. My last name is Shirogane.” Keith stared at his hand a little while longer before turning his head to face the water again.

“Keith.” He mumbled and Shiro grinned, letting his hand fall into his lap.

“Well Keith,” He watched Shiro in the corner of his eye as he stretched out his back before standing up, “I’ve never had a brother, but from what I can see- yours isn’t very nice.” Keith was kind of surprised, but refused to let Shiro see, hiding his face in his hair. Shiro was looking at him, so he just shrugged. “My dad’s older brother was a jerk to him too, but don’t worry,” He smiled again, triumphantly, “I can be your step in until he-” Shiro shoved his thumb in Rolo’s direction, Keith’s eyes followed his movement slowly, “-learns to grow up.” 

And that’s what he did.

Ever since that day Shiro and Keith were always together, at the pool or in the front yard with Keith’s Voltron action figures.

“-so they’re lions?”

“Nooo Takashi, they’re so much MORE than that.”

Eventually, Amanda and Clifford grew fond enough of Shiro and invited him to family dinners and outings. Keith would grin at Rolo’s grimace whenever shiro would stop over to steal Keith away for another adventure. They went to baseballs games at the college and to the arcade and even to the town fair where Shiro payed for Keith to get his first facepaint.(He chose to be painted as a hippo.) As time went by, Shiro was Keith’s brother and that is how he’d introduce him to friends whenever he came around.

“This is my big brother Takashi, he likes cats, christmas trees and girls.” Shiro would blush, but nevertheless, smiled lovingly down at Keith.  
As Keith grew, their relationship stayed strong and although Rolo was still lieutenant dickingsworth, Keith learned how to defend himself with the help of some training from Shiro. He was a whole new person when he entered high school. Sure, he was still rough around the edges but he managed to stand up for himself and get over his social anxiety a little. Once he joined the art club, Shiro took him to the Altea Art festival in which the art majors would display their projects from over the year. That’s when Keith truly found his calling, and he worked hard on it through high school, with a short computer whiz for a best friend cheering him on.

Shiro was like his brother, sure, but he was also so much more to him. He was the only person who applied to be Keith’s guardian after Rolo got too aggressive and Amanda and Clifford had to ask Keith to leave. He was the only adult who offered to teach him self defense, the only one who took interest in his love for art and bought him his first paint kit. Now they sat in the small dining room, and Keith can’t fault him for just doing what he’s known to do since Keith was young. He’s looking out for him.

“I’m...going to bed,” Keith tells his neglected plate of food and Shiro just grunts in response. There is no fighting with Shiro, especially when it’s about Keith’s education; Shiro is the whole reason that Keith knew to apply for a scholarship at Altea. As he pushes back in his chair, he can see Shiro purposely facing away from him, arms crossed over his chest. He wants to comfort Shiro, but he knows that the only way to do that is by quitting the job he loves so much. And that he won’t do.

His room is a mess when he enters, but he’s far too tired to clean it up. Instead, he kicks off his sneakers and flops onto his bed. Keith sits up, only to pull his shirt over his head, stretching out as he does so. He’s in the process of sliding out of his jeans when his phone erupts with sound, the Space Invaders theme once again. He turns to see Pidge’s smiling face glowing on his screen, the only light in his room and he quickly throws off his pants before sliding his finger across the screen to answer. 

The top of Pidge’s head is the first thing he sees as he gets up to adjust where his phone is sitting on his pillow. Keith sets it up so that he can see Pidge and Pidge can see him, then he stalks over to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“Hold on a second...” Pidge is scrambling to do something and Keith pops his head out from the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth. Then, they lift their head, their eyes darting across the screen before they finally land on Keith. “I thought I told you to never answer my skype calls naked.” They sound bored but the smile on their face proves otherwise.

Keith ducks back into the bathroom, finishing up before turning out the light and grinning in Pidge’s direction, “I am not naked, Pidge.”

“You’re not dressed,” They level, their glasses sliding down the bridge of their nose. They sigh, lifting a finger to push up their glasses before picking up a paper and studying it.

“Oh, you’ve seen worse.”

Pidge snorts, distracted, “Don’t remind me.” They finish scanning the paper when Keith settles back onto his bed, pulling his legs in to sit indian style. “Anyway, how was class?”

Keith sighs, throwing himself back onto the bed and Pidge arches a brow, “Pidge. They let idiots go to this school.”

They laugh, scribbling something down on a notepad on their side of the screen, “That’s not news to me.”

He lifts a hand, studying it in the pale moonlight that filters in through his bedroom window, “yeah well, I hate it.” His eyes trail over to Pidge who is smiling softly at him, “Oh and Takashi wants me to quit my job.”

“I wish he’d just drop it,” Pidge runs a hand through their already messy hair, before giving up and sliding a headband onto their head. “I mean, you’ve been working there for what? Two years?” 

“Two and a half,” Keith nods, and Pidge responds by shaking their head.

“He should have let it go awhile back.”

Keith agrees with Pidge but doesn’t add to their claim, “It’s probably Allura.”

“Oh and that woman,” Pidge throws their hands up into the air, “She doesn’t even remember him, he needs to get over himself.”

“I’m pretty sure he hasn’t introduced himself since I started working there,” Keith chuckles and Pidge shakes their head once more.

“God he is hopeless. It’s just a simple crush, why is he such a wuss about it?” They open up an Anatomy book and before Keith can question them, Pidge speaks up. “I’m helping Matt study. He’s going to be a doctor, but can’t even prepare for his very important medical test, very crucial to his future career may I add.” Keith makes a sound of acknowledgement and Pidge nods at the unspoken response, “He’s been really homesick too, so I don’t mind helping him out.” He watches them as they smile fondly down at the book. 

There is one thing Keith never had to question about Pidge, and that was the love for their brother. Pidge and Matt were best friends as children and even as they grew older their bond stayed strong. When Pidge came out to the family, Matt had ruffled their hair and smiled down at them. Keith always made fun of Pidge when they’d wear their brother’s glasses around the house, shouting out random medical terms that they had heard Matt reciting. Now Pidge wears a similar pair to their brother’s and real or not, Keith thinks they look great.

“Brothers, am I right?” Keith offers. Pidge rolls their eyes in response, a smile on their face.

“Those creatures.”

After twenty minutes, Pidge checked out for the night and Keith waved as the call ended. They had talked about several things after the Matt conversation, but nothing stuck and now Keith lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He reluctantly slips off his gloves, lifting his hands up again to reveal the scars that he is more than happy to keep hidden from the rest of the world. He twists his wrist a bit so that the discoloration of skin could be seen, the sliver of red glistening in the light. They no longer hurt, but they were still there. A reminder of the past, and although the scars no longer hurt, the memories always would. 

Keith lets a breath out before curling his arms into his chest and turning to his side, his back pressed against the wall. He screws his eyes shut tight, trying to ignore the thoughts swimming through the cracks in the mental wall he built up so many summers ago. 

“It’s done.” Keith murmurs, his eyes opening only to close again, “it’s over.” It’s the last thing he says to himself before his eyes finally fluttered shut for the night, his scrunched brows loosening a bit as he drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no but seriously thank you guys so much for the support! i really wanna make this good and enjoyable for everyone!  
> criticism is appreciated, as long as it's constructive! thank you again!


	3. Hunkilicious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The titles a work in progress um  
> -  
> -  
> no warnings! enjoy! and merry christmas !!

The student quad is empty -save for a few students scurrying off to their early morning classes- when Keith arrives. His hair is up in a loose ponytail and his sketchbook is tucked protectively under his arm as he closes his eyes, allowing the wind to caress his face. He slept for about five hours before his body refused to rest any longer, and he groaned to find that it was only 5:36 am.

He tried passing the time by finishing up the few syllabuses he received the day before, but as soon as the clock hit six he was out the door. As much as early shifts at the Java Lion suck, it's better than not having shifts and being up early enough to work. Keith tried texting Allura, asking to pick up some of the early bird patrons but she had refused. 

Now he's standing in the overgrown grass of Altea’s quad, the chilly morning air biting at the exposed parts of skin on his hands not covered by leather. Here's why leather fingerless gloves are the worst idea for early fall throughout winter, but Keith will never take them off.

Keith settles down in the center of the quad, criss crossing his legs as he sits his book in front of him. He flips it to a fresh blank page, the crisp edges flying up with the wind; His hand reaches up in his hair for a bobby pin that he takes and uses to keep the pages from moving. He’s not much for doing any art in nature, but when he woke up and saw that Shiro hadn't woken up yet he took advantage of it. He really didn't want to run into him after last night. 

The pencils in his coat pocket chatter together as he digs around for the one he wants, pulling it out with a flourish although no one is watching to be impressed. Then he’s leaning forward, left arm balancing the sketch book as his right begins to create an image from his brain. Keith closes his eyes briefly, studying the picture basis before he opens up again and places pencil to paper. 

It takes him about forty five minutes before he’s pulling back from the sketch, scanning it roughly before leaning in again. He erases some unnecessary marks and then begins to shade with another pencil, this one shorter from the amount of use over the years.

He’s more careful with shading because it's harder to correct once done, ignoring everything around him as his attention centers in on the picture. His wrist flicks with a flare that his art teacher once taught him and he silently appraises himself for how well the technique worked out. 

Once the shading is finished, he gives himself a break, eyes glazing over his work. He’s been trying to perfect this since his sophomore year of high school, but looking at it now, he can tell he hasn't. He sighs, shoving the pencils back into his coat pocket, letting the disappointment wash over him.

The ocean is a place of memories for Keith, but the ocean he continues to draw is one of a specific night. The sky was ink black and the waves that crashed angrily at his feet were indigo under the stretch of the pale moonlight. He remembers that night over many others, it lingers in the back of his mind when the world gets too quiet, it swarms around his heart like an irate nest of bees and coils around it, squeezing like an insistent cobra.

No matter how he tries, however, he can never put it to paper and it frustrates him until he's pulling at his own hair. 

Keith closes his book before allowing himself to look at the time and bites his lip when he sees that it's only 8:21. Still too early for class and far too early to call upon Pidge who vowed to only wake after eleven. He contemplates laying down in the grass until an unknowing student steps on him but quickly decides against that and instead gets up. Brushing off the loose grass and dirt that had collected on his clothes over the past hour and a half, he turns to face the student cafeteria which for some reason is full of life.

He quirks a brow, “Not like i have anything better to do.” His boot clad feet turn in the direction of the cafeteria, his book held loosely in his hands. It's a short walk before he’s stepping into the warm building and he shivers slightly, appreciating the change. 

A few tables are filled and the air is swimming with the scents of coffee and sugary sweets. The students are chatting along happily and those who are lined up for food are laughing at something that he can't hear. He moves closer to the line, his stomach growling and he blushes, although he’s sure no one heard him. Keith steps in line for what looks like a breakfast casserole which he isn't against at all, skipping dinner last night wasn't exactly the smartest move he could've made.

His eyes dart across the different kinds of hot beverages sitting on display, nothing like what he’s used to serving at the Java Lion. All of the coffees here look bland and are without any creams or sugars. He assumes that's for the student to decide, kind of like at the gas station where you buy the coffee and add what you want to it. Keith nods and moves forward in line, grabbing a tray as his eyes settle on the casserole dish. He licks his lips and an amused chuckle startles him into biting down on his lip.

Keith spins on his heel, coming face to face with Lance’s friend from the other day. The other guy smiles in recognition and Keith flushes at the amiability that just seems to radiate from him.

“It looks great, I know,” He speaks and Keith is taken aback by how beautiful his voice is. It's like honey with oats, soft and warm and he’s swept up in it all. “I helped make it, but a piece of advice,” He leans close to Keith, who is surprised when he doesn't pull back, “The corners are the best.”

“Oh um..” Keith's eyes dart back to the dish before he looks to the guy again, noticing the same orange bandanna in his hair from the other day, “Thank..you.”

“No need, my man,” He claps Keith on the shoulder who starts at the contact, his eyes wide, “Hunk, by the way.”

He blinks, letting a few seconds pass before he actually speaks. “I'm sorry...what?”

The guy grins, his cordial chocolate brown eyes almost twinkling, “My name, it's Hunk.”

Keith’s mouth forms an ‘O’ as a blush crawls up his neck, “Keith.” He blurts and a look flashes across Hunk’s face but before Keith can decipher it, Hunk smiles and the look is gone.

“We've met,” He notes and Keith nods at this, “So sorry about how that went by the way.”

Keith shakes his head slowly, still processing this new character. “No worries...the morning has all kinds of effects on people.”

Hunk chuckles under his breath, a sound full of warmth that makes Keith’s heart stutter, “How I wish it was only in the morning.” Keith wants to ask what he means by that but before he can, Hunk is reaching over and scooping up some casserole with a spatula. He glances up at Keith for a second.“You did want some, right?” He nods and Hunk smiles at him, serving the piece onto Keith’s tray.

“Um..thanks, again.” Hunk just waves him away, a delighted smile gracing his face.

He serves himself before turning back to Keith, who is currently trying to decide between orange juice or apple juice. “The lemonade is handmade, just so you know.” Keith flushes before his eyes land on the little plastic cups filled with what he assumes is lemonade. He picks one up hesitantly, taking a small sip before smiling down at it. It’s good. Like, really good.

“I don’t suppose that you helped make this as well,” There’s a hint of humor in Keith’s voice that even he’s shocked to hear but Hunk seems pleased.

“I wish, but no, cooking is my specialty.” He picks up his own cup of lemonade, “I know nothing about mixing drinks.”

“Ditto.” Keith offers, grabbing for some napkins and then turning to the woman manning the register. He fishes around in his other coat pocket and pulls out his student card, complimentary of the school. It has about fifty dollars on it before use and Keith normally never bought things off campus so a small breakfast fee meant nothing to him.

“Man, you still have yours?” Hunk comes up behind him, astonished by Keith’s representation of his card and Keith shrugs. “I used all of mine up during the summer.”

“You stayed here during your break?” Keith hadn’t done much during his but the last thing he could imagine doing is staying on campus for three whole months without any classes.

Hunk chuckles, moving up to pay for his own meal, “I picked up some culinary courses during the summer.” Keith is still looking at him as if he needs more of an explanation so Hunk simply continues, “I had no plans really, and my roommate always goes back home to his family so I just..stuck around.”

“Ah.” Keith acknowledges although he still can’t seem to wrap his head around it.

“Yeah well, I honestly benefitted from it. I mean,” Hunk shrugs, a small smile on his face, “If I wasn’t so big on Engineering I would no doubt be majoring in Culinary Arts. I even get to cook in the kitchen with the other students, and it’s far better than sitting in my dorm until classes start.” This Keith understands, allowing himself to think back to his job at the Java Lion. “So,” He starts up again, eyes shining in Keith’s direction, “Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

Keith is shocked but nods anyway, following Hunk as he heads to a small table in the corner of the room. They settle down, and Hunk rolls up the sleeves of his pastel yellow hoodie, which matches the complexion of his skin quite well. Keith admires this for a moment before his eyes find the orange bandanna and he can’t help himself from asking about it.

“What, this?” Hunk pulls at the hair piece after Keith had cautiously asked about it.

“Um..yeah.” He’s poking at his meal, eyes looking anywhere but at Hunk.

He hears that warm chuckle again before glancing up and finding that Hunk is smiling with adoration at the bandanna that is now in his hands. Keith didn’t mean for him to take it off but Hunk didn’t seem to mind as his smile grew once he found Keith’s eyes on him.

“My girlfriend, Shay. We’ve been dating since high school, but to be truthful we’ve only met a handful of times,” He’s tracing the edges of the bandanna before answering the unasked question. “She lives in another state, it’s a pretty lengthy trip so we mostly see each other for holidays or special events.” Hunk’s smile is contagious, Keith finds and he tries to hide it by taking a bite of his breakfast. “Anyway, she came to my first soccer game of the season back in Junior Year, I was scared out of my mind. First time I’d have to be goalie, ya know. Shay was really cool about it, she even brought me a good luck charm.” He lifts it up for Keith to fill in the blanks.

“So, did it work?” Keith finds himself asking. But before he can regret it Hunk is chuckling heartily.

“Oh God no, we lost 20 to 12.” Keith winces but Hunk is still smiling, “But I kept wearing it and eventually, we started winning. Like one of those magic stones you have to rub a bit before it’s hidden powers finally come to play.” Keith has no idea what Hunk is referring to but nods anyway.

“Do you still play?” Keith is sipping from his drink now, watching as Hunk ties the bandanna back into it’s place.

“Oh yeah, the Altea Paladins are going to kick Galran ass this season!” Keith grins at Hunk who has thrown his fist up in triumph, “We go against them at the end of the season in December, but we’ve been practicing like hell. So far, we’ve been pretty much unbeatable besides Balmera’s team. I have to hand it to them, they’re really good.”

Keith rests his face on his palm as Hunk goes on and on about how the season has been so far, it’s honestly fascinating. Shiro used to play backyard soccer with Keith as a kid but he had never gotten good enough to play on an actual team. He didn’t even want to, really. The sport had always been apart of his life however, especially in the big foster home he stayed in during his elementary years; When the kids were let out for recess, they’d all run to the field with their beat up soccer ball. Rolo also played soccer for his high school, but Keith didn’t care much for him or anything he enjoyed.

“The Galran shall be crushed,” Another voice speaks up and Keith’s eyes widen at the sight of a breath takingly gorgeous boy with loose brown curls framing his face. Hunk high fives the stranger accompanying it with an encouraging ‘Yes they shall!’. The boy’s pretty light blue eyes land on Keith, and when he grins in his direction Keith’s breath hitches. “The Galra Druids are a kick ass team, but we’re the ones taking home the championship title this year.” Keith nods, his heart beat in his ears when the boy winks his way. 

Hunk doesn’t seem to notice any of this. “Rax, you coming to practice tonight?”

“You know it,” He swipes some tendrils out of his face before placing a hand on his hip, the other coming to rest on Hunk’s shoulder. “You bringing this cutie? I may have to wear my good practice shorts.” Rax’s brows waggle suggestively and Keith feels his face begin to burn.

Hunk rolls his eyes, “I’m sure he has better plans than to sit around and avoid your horrific flirting.” The curly haired boy laughs at this, his eyes sparkling and Keith fights himself to look away.

“Fair point,” He speaks up, laughter still evident in his voice.“But he better be there to watch me win at the championship.”

“I’ll see if he wants to come watch us win.” Hunk tilts his head to smirk up at Rax who just shakes his own head, a big toothy grin on his face.

“Good enough,” He lifts his hand from Hunks shoulder and looks over to Keith, who blushes when he realizes he’s been staring. “Seeya then, gorgeous.” 

Once he struts away, Keith’s eyes glued to his back, Hunk clears his throat. “Sorry about him, most of the boys on the team are terribly flirtatious. I think it’s all that head butting of the ball to be honest with you.” He’s wiping his hands on a napkin and Keith’s eyes widen at the realization that he’d finished his breakfast. “Anyway, it’d be cool to have your support at the game, Keith.” At the mention of his name, he meets Hunk’s warm gaze. “We’re trying to get as many people as we can to show up, it’s the biggest game of the season- I mean, the team is even banding together to make school spirit shirts.” He says it as if school spirit is a lost tradition, which it kinda is. “I’m co-captain, so I’d be happy to inform you on the process of the shirts if you’d like one.”

Keith realizes that he should probably speak up, so he pushes some hair behind his ear before smiling back at Hunk. “I’m not much for school events, my brother took me to a few of Altea’s baseball games when he went here...”

“Trust me, this game we’ll be huge, not to mention the awesome parties Rax has back at his frat house after almost every game. Now I’m not much for partying, thus why I chose not live in the frat house with the rest of the team, but the one after the championship should be the biggest on campus.” Hunk is grinning and Keith feels his reluctance slipping, “Shay is coming too, so it’ll be party of the year.”

Keith flushes momentarily before pulling nervously at one of his gloves. “Well, now it would be cruel to refuse.” His eyes watch as Hunk’s grin widens, his pearly whites greeting Keith. “I wouldn’t mind going, and school spirit shirts can be.. cool?”

“Believe me,” Hunk slaps down his hand onto the table and Keith jumps a little in his seat, “You will not regret it.”

After breakfast, the two walked back out to the quad. Students were hurrying to class or sitting in the grass, books or cameras in hand. Hunk had talked some more about the team before asking Keith about his experience at the school, which he had answered honestly. He told Hunk that he Majors in art and spends most of his time at the Java Lion, which causes Hunk to think back to when they first met. Keith talked about the annual art festival and how he is already working on his first piece; Hunk agrees to attending if Keith promises to make it to the big game which he complies with. They shake on the deal and Keith offers to maybe even coming to some earlier games, to which Hunk surprises him with a hug of gratitude in response. As soon as their feet touch the main path, Hunk turns to Keith with a small smile before saying a short goodbye and jogging away.

He watches as Hunk’s figure disappears within the web of students before spinning on his heel and heading over to his first class of the day. They had talked so long without Keith noticing, he was shocked to find it was already almost one. He took his time on his way to class, an easy smile on his face.

So far, his second year has graced him with two new friends. He smiles fondly at the thought of Iris who he was about to meet up with, and then of Hunk who was an absolute delight. Everything is turning out pretty okay, he decides. Well, everything but his Honors Statistics class- he’d figure that out later though. For now, Keith will focus on one thing at a time. 

Keith slips his phone out of his coat pocket, sending over a quick text to Iris who responds right away.

Vixen> (MARINO)  
-HURRY UP I’M DYING  
-MS. VA’NES IS EXPECTING US TO HAVE OUR PAPER DONE

Keith grins down at Iris’s texts, the paper she’s freaking out over already finished and in his bag. He doesn’t tell her though, not until he stumbles into class and she attacks him with a wild case of bedhead. When he brandishes the paper she continues to hit him with it, Keith squeaking at her to stop in between laughter.


End file.
